


Jughead The Hunger Part II

by hmkleynhans



Series: Jughead: The Hunger [1]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Jughead The Hunger, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmkleynhans/pseuds/hmkleynhans
Summary: The One-Shot Jughead The Hunger sort ended on a cliffhanger. This story picks up three months after the story ended.





	Jughead The Hunger Part II

**Author's Note:**

> You first need to read the Jughead: The Hunger comic to understand this story.

**Jughead: The Hunger Part II**

 

# Jughead

 

 

“Come on, Hot Dog,” I called out behind me. Hot Dog came running excitedly up to me with his tongue sticking out. It amazes me that, even after everything we have gone through, he is still the same dog he has always been. It’s been three months after I left Riverdale. For the first few weeks Hot Dog and I have been hitch-hiking to get as far from Riverdale as possible. With no money and nowhere to go to, we have been wandering aimlessly from city to city living off scraps we found in trash cans outside restaurants.

The days were long but the nights…the nights were the hardest, especially around the full moon. Sometimes, when the moon is at its lowest, I can control it… the change. Or at least I think I can. I have slipped up. More than once. I didn’t mean to, I never do but I…I can’t help it. I can’t help what I am.

I never stayed in one place for too long, mostly because of my ‘accidents’, but also because of Betty. She was out there looking for me, I know she was. Hell, she still is. She got really close once, so close that I had almost thought it was over for me. Almost… By some miracle I got away. But I was tired of running. So I decided to go somewhere where no one could find me, where I can’t hurt anyone: the middle of the woods.

Hot Dog and I have been living in an abandoned cabin for more than a month now. A part of me knew that this cannot be forever, but for now it is home. When the hunger got too strong I resolved to hunting animals. The taste was horrible but pretty soon I got used to it. At least now, I have a chance and a way to try to control this thing. Maybe then if…when…Betty finds me I can show her that I’m different now, that I’m _good_.

 

# Betty

 

 

Dear Diary, it’s been three months since Jughead left Riverdale. I didn’t chase him at first, but after there were reports about people being slaughtered by some kind of an animal, I knew I had to find him. Archie insisted to come along, and we both know why: to keep me from killing Jughead. He thinks that he can somehow change my mind and save Jughead. If only he knew…

“What’re you doing Betts?” Archie said behind me. I closed my journal and smiled at him.

“Just writing,” I said and shoved my journal into my backpack. Archie flopped onto the creaky Motel bed and gave a long yawn. We were staying in some crappy middle-of-nowhere Motel. At first it was easy following the trail of dead bodies Jughead left but about a month ago the trail went cold. It was like he disappeared off the face of the Earth. Archie thinks that Jughead found another cure, one that really worked this time. Deep down I want to believe him but I know the truth, Jughead is still out there, hiding.

Just before Jughead disappeared, we caught up to him. I almost had him, too but he got away. Archie doesn’t know this, I won’t even admit this to myself but I know it wasn’t by a miracle that he got away, I let him get away. See, I have grown fond of Juggie in ways that I couldn’t – shouldn’t – admit.

My crush on Archie was just a cover. Who would ever willingly put up with being the backup of some over-spoiled rich brat who cares about no one but herself? Sure, I _have_ come to like Archie but only as a friend. He had a good heart and I appreciated that part of him. When Archie and I left, Veronica was furious, probably thinking that Archie chose me over her. I can’t say that it did not please me.

Archie’s heavy snoring distracted me from my thoughts. Nowadays I can barely sleep anymore. Partly because of Archie’s snoring and partly because I’m constantly haunted by thoughts of Jughead. I grabbed my backpack and slipped out of the room, finding a quiet spot by the Motel pool. The full moon reflected onto the water turning it silver. I dug out the map from my backpack and examined it. I have done this every night for the past month. I traced my finger over the path we have followed until up to where I last saw Jughead. He had a pattern, which I figured out very quickly. He would never stay in one place too long and when the reports of animal slaughters came out he would have already been long gone, moving to the next town.

That’s how I almost caught him, by following his pattern instead of the trail of dead bodies he left behind. But now the trail is dead and there is no more pattern. He is hiding, but where? As if on cue a light breeze rustled through the leaves of an old oak tree on the other side of the pool. It might have been my imagination but I could’ve sworn I heard someone, or something, howling in the distance. If under any other circumstance I would have questioned my sanity, but a Cooper knows better. There is no such thing as a coincidence, at least that is what my father always told me.

I studied the map again and almost slapped myself from my own stupidity. “Of course! How could I have been so stupid?” He’s been here, Jughead has been here the whole time. I jumped up and craned my neck to look over the fence. Right across the street was a large and dense forest that went on for miles. If I were a confused teenage werewolf on the run I wouldn’t even think twice about hiding out in the middle of the forest where no one would find me.

I considered telling Archie about the news but I knew that, once face to face with Jughead, he would try and stop me. No, this is something I have to do on my own. In all honesty, killing Jug is the last thing I wanted to do but as a Cooper I have a duty. I swore an oath and Coopers always stick to their word. I slipped into the room, careful not to wake Archie, and gathered all my things. I wrote Archie a note telling him that I’m sorry but I have to do this.

In the Motel lobby I grabbed a map of the hiking trails and as many water bottles and snack bars as I could fit into my pack. My plan is to start at the trails and go as far as it takes until I find him by using basic tracking skills, all while trying not to get completely lost. “You got this, Cooper,” I told myself and took a deep breath before entering the woods in the middle of the night on a full moon.

# Jughead

 

I woke up this morning lying half-naked on the floor, which is not unusual. What is unusual though, is that this time I was not completely covered in blood. Actually, there was no blood on or near me. Even stranger, I could remember most of last night. I changed, that I remember – I always remember that. I also remember what happened _after_ the change, when I was full-on werewolf. I smiled in victory and even allowed myself a fist-pump of victory. I did it! I finally got control of myself!

Right then my stomach growled. I thought back to last night and remembered that I purposefully abstained from eating anything, even deer. “Jughead Jones, what has become of you?” I asked myself amusedly. No one would believe that _I_ restrained myself when it comes to food. I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a can of expired tuna. Whoever owned this cabin must have left in a hurry. When I got here all the cupboards, closets and the fridge was chock full. Even the beds were still unmade. I was too tired and hungry to think twice about raiding the food stock. After a week I had started to run out of food, but with hunting deer in werewolf form I could keep my hunger at bay. Well, for a normal person anyway. I was always ravenous, this hunger inside never going away.

I scooped half of the tuna into a bowl for Hot dog, which he eagerly devoured. I picked at the tuna as if it were the last meal I would ever have. Afterward I pulled of the torn pants and t-shirt I was wearing and stepped into the cabin’s shower. The shower head was rusted and the water was cold. Like everything else, I was used to this too. This is my new normal, I guess. Hell, there are worse ways to live than this. Like having your best friend hate you so much that she wants you dead, wants to kill you herself.

Out of all this that is what hurts the most. Betty Cooper is the only girl I have ever liked, as a friend and maybe even more. She was the only one in Riverdale who I felt really understands me, not even Archie. Although I don’t feel that way about girls, I started to feel that way about Betty. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Everything has changed and will never be the same again. I just wish things could be different.

 

 

 

# Betty

 

I have walked all night and my feet were killing me. I’m not one to give up easily so I kept on going. When dawn broke I finally decided to take a break and sit down. I have wandered through every trail last night but I couldn’t find any Jughead/werewolf-related traces. He must be deeper in the woods than I though. If I carry on and stray from the paths I might get lost, I could die in these woods. If I don’t, if I give up, I would be a failure. This is more than just hunting and killing a werewolf, this is personal.

I didn’t want it to be. Why did Jughead of all people have to be the monster? Why couldn’t it be someone like Veronica or Reggie? Images of Reggie’s bloodied body, torn to shreds, flashed in my mind. I can make this as personal as I want, Jughead is a killer and that fact is never going to change.

Taking a sip of water I took out the trail map and studied it. According to the map, the longest trail is about fifty miles into the woods. Which means, that if Jughead wanted to remain hidden he would’ve gone at least a hundred miles into the woods. That gives me a fifty mile radius from here on. Nobody ever said hunting werewolves is easy. I only had enough provisions to last me three days, maybe five if I paced myself. I dug out my Riverdale pyjama shirt and tore a piece from it, tying it around a branch. If I am going to do this I need to make sure I’m not going in circles, and maybe this way I can try to find my way back.

Every summer my parents sent me to Werewolf Hunting Camp. They would teach us basic survival skills along with advanced combat skills. Of course I excelled in all of the classes and even got promoted to head councillor. Every councillor at the camp, every one of my family members have warned me not to get attached to anyone. Especially a Jones. “Good going, Cooper,” I reprimanded myself. I shook all negative thoughts out of my head and shifted into survival mode. Every five miles I would tie another piece of clothing to a tree branch.

I followed the directions on the map and my compass as best I could. I kept this up ‘til nightfall and into the next day. Until my feet could not walk another step. Until I was so tired I all but fainted.

 

 

# Jughead

 

 

Last night was a new moon. It’s the only time I don’t have  to change. Instead I just lay on the grass with Hot Dog by my side and stared into sky full of stars. I used to love doing this back in Riverdale. I used to go to Fox Forest all the time to stargaze. Once I brought Archie along with me but all he wanted to do was look for ‘the perfect make-out spot’.

While I was laying outside last night, reminiscing about the good old times, I caught a whiff of a very familiar scent in the breeze. There was no mistaking it, I have smelled that sweet scent my whole life. That scent belonged to only one person: Betty Cooper. My heart pounded wildly and myriad emotions flowed through me.

With my heightened senses I can hear and smell anything within a twelve mile area, more if the scent is really strong. Betty’s scent is no exception. She is close, I can feel it. A million scenarios have been running through my mind. I can either stay and have a match to the death with one of my best friends, or I can run and spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. Neither option will end well for either of us.

Hot Dog licked my arm and looked at me with his head tilted. I know what he was thinking, that I should stay and try to convince Betty of what I have been trying to achieve these past few months and what I have achieved only two nights ago. “No more second chances,” she had said before I tried the cure. I patted Hot Dog on the head and thought back about that night.

I don’t remember much about it, only what Archie told me. He said that I changed and threw him across the room before I almost killed Betty. If the cure didn’t start to take effect I probably would have killed her. That part I do remember, vaguely. It wasn’t the cure that helped me, it was Betty. That night I saw something in her eyes. Well, I saw a lot of things in her eyes: anger, fear, regret, despair, acceptance, hate. But underneath it all there was a glint, a sliver of something else. I don’t know what it was, maybe hope, but for that brief second I could see myself through her eyes and I saw the monster I had become. The monster I did not want to be.

It took all my strength but I willed myself back into human form. Betty saved me that night, and every night since until…well until Reggie showed up at my house that awful night.

 

 

# Betty

 

 

I woke up with twigs sticking into my back and the morning sun shining into my eyes. How long have I been asleep? I checked my watch and saw that it was already the next day. “Nice going, Cooper,” I said to myself in utter frustration. “You could have been eaten by a bear or worse, Jughead could have found you and ran for the hills, literally,”  I grinned at the bad joke. It took me a minute to compose myself from sleeping a day on the ground and opened my last snack bar and took a sip of water.

After this I am going to have to start living off the land. I am not a finicky type of girl but the mere thought of eating bugs and skinning snakes made me nauseous.  That part of Hunter training was my least favourite. I got up and dusted off my clothes. I checked that everything was still intact, including my 38 pistol and machete, before starting on my journey again.

Archie must be worried out of his mind right now. He would’ve slowed me down anyway with his clumsiness. That boy is a walking disaster. I smiled as so many fond memories of me, Arch and Jug together flashed through my mind like a montage. A sharp pain dashed through my chest, taking my breath away. “Oh, Juggie. Why did it have to be you?” With those words a tiny tear slipped out and slid across my cheek. I swatted it away as if it were a pesky fly.

“Come on, Betty. You are _not_ getting soft now.” What is wrong with me? Grandma Cooper did not even flinch when she singlehandedly took out an entire pack of werewolves. It has been my lifelong dream to be as good of a hunter as she was. She never let her feelings get in the way and neither should I.

I didn’t even realize that I started moving again until I was on the edge of a small precipice. I tried to stop but it was too late. I was already rolling, tumbling down the slope. I hit my shoulder against a rock while simultaneously plunging my leg into a splintered tree stump. I cried out in pain while I tumbled further down until I landed in front of a tree.

Groaning I reached for my leg and felt something wet. I didn’t even have to look at my hand to know it was blood. I took the remaining piece of my Riverdale shirt and tied it around my leg, above the wound, as a make-shift tourniquet. Luckily my shoulder wasn’t dislocated or anything but I could already feel a nasty bruise developing.

With a great struggle I got up, using the tree in front of me for support. Something on the tree caught my eye. I traced my fingers over the four identical marks carved into the tree. These weren’t just any marks, they were claw marks. Werewolf claw marks. “Jughead,” I said at the same time as I saw it: a cabin.

 

 

# Jughead

 

Her scent hit me before I could register anything else. It woke me up from a deep sleep. For a change I woke up in bed with my clothes still intact. Man, I am getting good at this whole control thing. Betty’s scent hung in the air like burning incense, filling my nostrils and darkening my heart. “This is it,” I said and patted Hot Dog who was still asleep next to me.  

As soon as I got outside another smell hit me like a hammer in the face: blood. My stomach growled and I could feel the animal part of me yearning to come out. In the far distance I could see the faint outlines of a silhouette. Squinting, I could make out that it was a girl, huddled over and limping.

I was already sprinting before my mind could put all the pieces together. Betty is here but more importantly Betty is hurt.

 

 

# Betty

 

My shoulder hurt like hell and with every step my leg throbbed more and more. I was in no shape to fight and Jughead could easily take me, even in human form. He must have already smelled my blood because he was running toward me with a speed only a lycanthrope can possess. My guess is he has been living off of animals while he was hiding out here and his hunger for human flesh must be overwhelming.

I reached for my gun as a last resort because Elizabeth Cooper will not go down without a fight, no matter how injured. As Jughead got closer and closer I prepared myself and raised my gun. He stopped within three feet of me. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, probably mirroring my own expression.

He did not even register the gun I was holding. His eyes lingered on my wound and then back into mine. It was only then when I could see the concern and anguish on his face.

“Betty,” he said with a tone that matched his worried expression. A tone that melted my heart.

“Jug.”

 


End file.
